


You, Too

by stardustmoth



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Mike Wheeler, But mostly fluff, El is clueless but she tries her best, Established Mileven, F/M, Gay Will Byers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory, Post-Season/Series 02, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Will Byers and Eleven Are Best Friends, and ya'll can fight me on that, angst because sexuality crisis, oops i made a magical ot3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-24 14:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustmoth/pseuds/stardustmoth
Summary: (I'll write a real summary for this eventually, i swear, uhhhhh)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Never posted to AO3 before, bear with me pls! This started out as just a headcanon dump to fill the void til season 3 comes around, but the more I wrote the more complex it got and the more I fell in love with it (and the more I realized it was too late to switch verb tense from present to past tense, so I guess that's just how it is now). Anyway! The world needs more fluffy, wholesome Milevill in it and cheesy, care-free young love is my bread and butter, so off we go~

It's at a point now where El practically lives with the Byers.

Hopper is always busy, and even though she's supposed to keep a low profile until the hullabaloo about Hawkins dies down, he just can't keep the poor girl locked up in the cabin alone again. Since Joyce and her kids live fairly far out away from the edge of town, letting El visit them is a perfect compromise. After all, Joyce adores her and Hopper trusts that Jonathan will keep an eye out for her when his mom's too busy. And of course El gets to see her friends.

The party never used to hang out at the Byers' much, because Will lives the farthest away and Mike's parents don't bother them and will let them do just about anything at the Wheelers' house, not to mention the unspoken income gap that makes it difficult for Joyce to provide the ideal hangout spot for four thirteen-year-old boys and their hip new technology and never-ending appetite for pizza and chips and candy. Since the events of the past couple years, however, such matters barely cross their minds; they're all just happy to have somewhere to hang out together and see each other.

Mike visits nearly every chance he gets. While inattentive parents are a plus when it comes to planning weekend-long D&D campaigns and movie marathons with friends, it's getting increasingly uncomfortable when he's alone with his family. It's as though Ted and Karen exist on another plane of reality where they're a perfect picket-fence nuclear family, a good patriotic Christian family that follows the expectations of society and doesn't once question if there's maybe another way to live your life. As though everything's fine in Hawkins, Indiana and they didn't get dragged through hell while narrowly avoiding inter-dimensional Armageddon just a few months ago. Nancy's okay, of course, but she's never around, probably for the same reason. They just don't _get it_ , they don't _get_ the things that matter and the things that don't. So it makes more sense to be with the people who do get it, who understand why he so desperately wants to be around El and Will at every given opportunity, why that look falls over his face like he worries he may never see those two faces ever again every time they say goodbye.

Dustin, Lucas, and Max join them, too, of course, but not nearly as often. They get cold feet and end up running off to the arcade, or the cinema, or that little corner restaurant that sells the greasiest hot dogs ever. Since El can't roam around the middle of town, Mike always elects to stay with her. Therefore, both by default because they're hanging out at his house and because he isn't nearly as fond of going out, Will stays behind, too. The previously-inseparable boys sometimes wonder about the fate of their party; so quickly four became six, and six became two sets of three-- were they destined to one day drift apart? But no, there's no possible way that they could ever split for good, not after everything they've been through. And they've been through some pretty wild stuff indeed.

Everyone hoped and prayed that closing the gate would fix everything. While it's certainly been far better, both for Will and for El, things still linger. El still gets stressed about closed doors and tight spaces. Though she is officially and legally Hopper's adopted daughter now, She still feels a twinge of guilt in her stomach when she's called "Jane". The numbers branded on her wrist aren't going to go away. There are still so many things she doesn't yet understand. Will avoids walking near certain spots in his house where his map of the tunnels used to be. He gets jumpy during thunderstorms or particularly windy nights. That feeling of being stared at, the feeling that first showed its face when Troy decided what his cruel nickname for Will should be and the rest of the school seemed to keep whispering ever since, the feeling that intensified tenfold after he returned home from the Upside Down, the feeling that bore into his head just behind his eyes and made his blood turn to ice when the Mind Flayer took control of him... that feeling never quite went away.

But Mike is there.

Like he's always been, Mike is there, and he makes it bearable. For both of them. He's a safe place to run to, a warm hand to hold, a little bit of Normal to keep their world sane. And he’s been around constantly, now more than ever. Will once got embarrassed and apologized to him, saying that he didn't have to be so nice and spend so much energy caring for him, because it wasn't fair, Will's problems are definitely a burden on him and he didn't have to stay. Mike was taken aback that he felt that way; with him and Eleven it was so unspoken and yet clearly understood, they lean on each other and looking out for her is something he needs, too, to feel useful and worth something and not just another nobody in a small town where nothing happens.  He tells Will that it's the same with him, too, it always has been. He is Mike's best friend and not even a shadow demon from another universe would stop him from caring. Something about that conversation shifts a gear in both boys' heads. More and more they are suddenly realizing that yes, it's always been this way.

The nervous flutters in Will's stomach that were different from other kinds of nerves, the ones that only happened around Mike, it's always been this way. The understanding warmth in Mike's eye that was so calming, and allowed him to talk about the things that bothered him, it's always been this way. The inexplicable joy that lit Will up like Christmas lights whenever Mike laughed or praised his drawings or played the part of DM a little too enthusiastically, the kind that pricked little worries across the back of his neck, _maybe this is why words like "queer" and "fag" leave a lingering sting_... it's always been this way. The realization that he is-- _has always been_ \-- hopelessly in love with Mike, and the fact that Mike is obviously, completely, irreversibly in love with Eleven, shatters him like the force of a runaway train and Will spends the entire night sobbing bittersweet and heartbroken tears into his pillow.

While it all becomes clear to Will, the shift in perspective has clouded and scrambled up everything in Mike's head and he finds himself unable to comprehend for sure what his own thoughts mean. He had said that his feelings were "the same for you as they are for El"; the more he considers that statement the harder it is to deny the truth in it. But El is different. He _loves_ El. He tries to piece together what he felt about her from the beginning until now, and there's always a flicker of the same feelings in his memories of his friendship with Will. El was alone and scared when he found her (so was Will), she was different and intriguing and looked at him like she thought he was, too (so did Will), she came into his life at exactly the right time, when he needed a little bit of hope (so did Will). But the flip in his stomach when El walked out in Nancy's old dress and a blond wig, when it was El's face framed by what you're expected to see as normal, what a boy like him is expected to find attractive, that little lightbulb that switched on and he realized " _oh_... maybe I _Like_ her..." and made his heart start somersaulting towards some really, really _big_ feelings... That's the difference, right? It has to be. _But you had feelings already before you realized it in that moment_ , a voice in the back of his head argues (it sounds suspiciously like Lucas). _Are you so oblivious that you need to physically see somebody's face on the standard model to realize you Like them?_ And it's not as though Mike didn't think El was pretty before. He knows an attractive face when he sees one. He can look around a classroom at school and tell which of the girls are cute, and heck, even which of the boys are cute, too.

_Even which of the boys are cute, too._

_...Boys are cute, too..._

And for some reason most of the examples that pop into Mike's head happen to be Will Byers.

The radio is on and tuned to a news station during dinner. The radio hosts are blabbering on about politics as usual, and the election, and other boring things that don't matter. When the discussion shifts to concerns about the "gay disease" epidemic, Mike squirms uncomfortably in his chair and starts tapping his foot. He asks Nancy to turn the radio off, it's just boring talking and nobody's listening anyway. Nancy brushes the volume wheel as she walks by, but he can still hear every word. The radio hosts take the topic seriously for about five seconds before laughing and brushing it off with lazily tossed slurs. "I said turn it off!" Mike shouts. Holly looks over at him with a frightened face, Karen gives him a scolding look for startling Holly, Ted mumbles about "no yelling at the table" without looking up from his meatloaf. Nancy is staring at Mike with confusion and concern, like she could sense his uneasiness in his tone, but she doesn't make a fuss about it. Mike hurriedly finishes his plate and leaves the dinner table with homework as an excuse to avoid helping clean up and thunders down into the basement where his super-com sits waiting in the fort under the table. Like usual, he starts with "El, are you there?"

"Mike," comes the soft reply, and the relief and excitement to hear her voice break through the static makes his breath catch, even though the days of calling out into empty white noise are long gone, even though she is always there now, she always replies. But the lump stays in his throat when he asks, "One or two?"

Hopper had gifted El a matching walkie talkie so she could chat with everyone if she wanted to, without overexerting herself by using psychic means to contact them. With this gift he also established rules about how much she could say. Revealing her location could be dangerous, of course, so they have to use vague codes. If she is asked "one or two", it means they are asking if she is at Hopper's cabin, one, or at the Byers', two. "One or two?" _I need to see you, where can I find you?_

"One," El replies, still in a soft voice, like she knows he's upset about something. Without a second's hesitation Mike snatches up his backpack and goes right out the door to hop on his bike. He'll come up with an excuse for his parents later. The instant Mike reaches the cabin door and raps his knuckles in the secret knock pattern, every lock clicks and it swings right open, and Mike stumbles directly into Eleven's waiting arms. Holding her feels like coming home. Mike clings to that thought, trying to avoid the confusing swarm of buzzing questions and fears that are also spinning about in his head. It takes more effort than he anticipates, and soon he's unable to stop his eyes from watering. El holds his face in her hands and stares up at him, carefully brushing the tears from his cheeks, searching him for an answer. "Are you okay?"

Words mean different things when El says them. She's learning how to communicate and expanding her vocabulary exponentially fast, but she can still convey such complex messages with so few carefully chosen words or phrases. She learned "Are you okay?" from Mike within the first day she met him. It means _I'm here, I care about you, if you need help I will do anything to make it better. Tell me where it hurts._

Mike squeezes her shoulders, digging his fingers into the loose sweatshirt she's wearing, and whispers, "I don't know."

He can't find the words to explain what's wrong. He's not even sure himself what it's about anymore, all he knows is that he doesn't know. El understands. She sits down on the couch next to him and holds him and strokes his hair silently.  Her heartbeat is steady, real, grounding; Mike can feel the strong pulse so vividly. _This_ is what matters, he thinks. Being here with El, where he doesn't have to explain why he's not okay. That is what matters.

He's not really sure what time it is when he gets home. All the upstairs lights are off except Nancy's bedroom. Mike goes through a list of possible excuses for why he was outside so late, but it turns out he didn't need a cover story this time. Nancy is sitting on the basement couch when Mike comes in the back door. She doesn't ask where he's been, after all it's pretty obvious and she's been in that position before, needing to be with somebody who understands. "I told Mom that you were asleep down here," she explains. Mike thanks her quietly, kicking off his shoes.

"Don't expect me to cover for you every time, at least warn me when you're gonna sneak off at a stupid time," Nancy chuckles and gives him a sympathetic smile, then hesitates before adding, "You can talk to me if something's bothering you, y'know. What happened to 'no more secrets', huh?"

Mike is most definitely not in the mood to talk it out with anybody, let alone his sister. While he's mostly annoyed, a small part of him appreciates that she's on his side. Jonathan's supportive-older-sibling tendencies must be starting to rub off on her. It doesn't take much to get her to drop the subject, however, and she leaves him to himself. Mike doesn't bother going upstairs to bed. He lays down in his usual spot on the couch and attempts to fall asleep, and the basement feels quieter and lonelier than it has for a long time.

The next morning at school, there is something noticeably off about both Will and Mike. Will looks like he hasn't slept in days; his eyes are red and puffy and he keeps dozing off in the middle of class. It's not like his typical off-days, though, which consist of anxious fidgeting and swaying and looking as though he might burst into tears if something startled him too hard. Today it's more like the opposite; he's just so _gloomy_. He even turned down Dustin's offer of an extra pudding cup he snatched from the cafeteria, for crying out loud!

"Did something happen? Like, did his dog die or something?" Max asks. She observes the little raincloud at a distance, seeming to pick up on something the other two don't; she can't tell what's caused it, but he's got all the telltale signs of a lonely broken heart. Dustin and Lucas are at a loss. They know how to cheer up a nervous Will, and pull him along into their conversations and jokes until he relaxed and laughed some, but a _sad_ Will? This is where they'd usually turn to Mike. But he definitely isn't himself today, either. Mike looks downright _paranoid_ , shrinking down into his seat and eyes shifting around the classroom. He's in an agitated mood, which isn't terribly surprising, but what's weirder is he's avoiding everyone-- just plain ignoring them. He won't meet their eyes, and he won't even _look_ at Will. Max is usually pretty good about suppressing her desire to punch Mike in the face, but he's being so weird today that it's particularly difficult to hold back. When school ends for the day and he takes off without so much as a "goodbye", she scoffs and tells Lucas and Dustin to not bother inviting him to the arcade with them this time. He never joins them anyways and his snippy attitude would only ruin the fun. They're reluctant to leave him out, but agree that it's probably better to let him cool off from whatever mood he's gotten into.

El is at Will's house when he and his brother get home, idly switching channels on their TV. Jonathan drops him off and tells the two to behave and to not eat too much junk food, then leaves for his part-time job. El smiles innocently up at Will, and before she can notice the pain on his face he retreats to the bathroom. His cheeks burn hotly with shame; why does she have to be there today? Would she know with just one glance that last night he had been cursing her name into tear-stained bedsheets, wishing her out of existence, because how could a pitiful little weirdo like him ever compare to her? If she wasn't real then he could still pretend, pretend that Mike's caring smiles and sweet brown eyes were _his_ , he could pretend that when he put his arm around his shoulders it was because he was _special_ to Mike, because he _wanted_ to be close to him and touch him and share his warmth. But Eleven is real, she's here and she's amazing and she's beautiful and Mike looks at her in a way that makes it painfully clear how _not_ special Will is, because his eyes don't light up like that for him, he doesn't grin that way for him. And that makes pretending so much harder.

It isn’t fair. He can’t hate El. With all the time they've spent together recently, she has very quickly become one of his best friends. She is fascinated by his artwork, and would ask him about every single illustration, listening so intently when he'd explain each one. Scenes from the party's D&D campaigns that strung together like a picture book are her favorites, because Will would tell the full story in detail and his excitement made it so much more entertaining. He had been shy to share some of his original stories, but she was so genuinely interested in them that he couldn't resist babbling about those, too. El has very limited artistic ability, but she loves watching Will draw and learning how he does it. Joyce bought her her own set of crayons so she didn't have to keep borrowing his, so now it's even easier to teach her the skill. They are _best friends_ , or perhaps more akin to brother and sister, since Will is open about himself to her the way he is with Jonathan. So the sudden onslaught of angry red jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach feels like betrayal.

He turns on the sink and rubs cold water into his face, begging it to stop being so _obvious_. It doesn't work. His big girly blue-green eyes and round pink cheeks always gave everything away, his heart on full display whether he wanted it to be or not. He's not even surprised the bullies at school noticed, no matter how brainless they are. And if _they_ could see it before even he did, then surely someone as observant as El would. It would be pointless to try and hide from her, she would know something is wrong right away. And Friends Don't Lie. With a defeated sigh Will steps out of the bathroom and beckons Eleven out the back door. If he's gonna tell her his deepest darkest secrets, then it's gonna be somewhere safe.


	2. Chapter 2

She follows him out into the woods behind his house, eyeing him curiously but not saying anything. She recognizes Castle Byers. It looks far more inviting in this dimension. He holds back the tattered striped sheet that served as the entrance so she can duck inside. She knows that this fort is special and secret; stepping through the doorway is like an unspoken promise that what happens in Castle Byers stays in Castle Byers.

Will sits in his usual spot on the blankets. She takes a seat across from him, waiting patiently. This is suddenly a lot harder than he imagined it would be; how should he even _begin_ to explain to her? But El is an incredibly good listener, even if he doesn’t know what words to say; that had always been a really nice quality about her, because while everybody else's solution is "talk to me, talk to me, tell me what's wrong", it’s never that easy. He could express things to El in other ways. She'd read his face and pay close attention to subtle gestures. Something as simple as holding his hand for a moment could calm him, because with even the briefest touch she'd connect with him right away and _understand_ , and that alone is more validating than anything words could say.

"You're hurting," El states.

Will looks down at his hands and nods.

"Why?"

He takes a deep shuddering breath. "Because I'm different. And... everyone was right."

It's a complicated concept to explain to her; of course it would be, though. Social expectations and what you do and don't do with different people, depending on your relationship to them, was always the hardest for her to grasp. It had taken almost a whole evening to explain what kissing meant and where the boundaries were-- Mike kissed her a lot, and Joyce kissed Will and Jonathan every day, Max kissed Lucas sometimes, and she even saw Hopper kiss Joyce once. So naturally she assumed it would be appropriate to kiss anybody she cared deeply for, and poor Dustin nearly had a stroke when she swooped in on him with innocent yet terribly misplaced affection. Everyone had been so loud and adamant about it: Those kinds of kisses were _special_ and you only gave those to _one special person_. Will decides it would be a good place to start by referencing that particular "How to Be Human" lesson.

"You know how... Jonathan and Nancy are together? And Lucas and Max? And how they're friends, but also... more than that?"

El nods, "Special."

"Well... you can only be special together if you're a boy and a girl, right? Boys are supposed to like girls and girls are supposed to like boys."

El nods again, thinking; it is always a boy and girl pair that share the special kisses, even on the TV in soap operas and movies.

Will bites his lip, his leg starting to bounce restlessly, and he tries to swallow down the terrified lump in his throat. "It's... it's not normal for a boy to... like boys instead of girls... in the _special_ way... people don't like that, they think it's wrong."

She scrunches up her face, confused. "Why?" That shouldn't make a difference, should it? Special is good, it means two people are happy to be with each other. What could be wrong about it? Why would it make people upset if a boy and another boy were special together?

Will's fidgeting intensifies, "I don't know, that's just the way it is. Because it's weird. And people hate weird. And--" he chokes, his eyes finally betraying him and tearing up, "--and _I'm_ weird."

El still doesn't understand why it's such a bad thing, but she can see that it's really deeply hurting Will. She takes both his hands and leans toward him, big, searching brown eyes staring into his. Listening. Telling her this seems to have opened a floodgate of troubled emotions, and he trembles and cries and holds tight to her hands. All the times he overheard Lonnie, all the times Troy and the other bullies at school would mock him and push him around, all the times the people around town would give him disapproving glances but then look away if he noticed, all the times he’d draw and redraw and redraw the same face because _it’s not quite right, he doesn’t look good enough,_ but then later catch himself thinking that the boy he drew looked _too_ good, all the times he stared a little too long at his friends’ or male classmates’ features, admiring things like the color of their eyes or the shape of their face or the gently sloping lines of their figures (Jonathan says that it’s because he’s an artist, but why did it make him feel nervous?)... everything comes crashing in on him the moment he admits it out loud.

Will sniffles and breathes hard and looks at her very seriously, "You... you can't t-tell anyone I'm gay, a-alright? _Nobody_ else can know, El, you... you have to promise."

"'Gay'?" El repeats. She's heard that before somewhere...

"Yeah... yeah, that's what it's called... boys who like boys..."

She suddenly remembers where she'd heard that word. The mouthbreather said it, at the school. He was saying mean things about Will that made Mike angry. If more mouthbreathers know, they'll be mean, too, and bad people would hurt him like he's hurting now. She has to keep it a secret to protect Will. She'll do anything to protect him. El nods sincerely. "Yes. I promise."

She scoots closer to him and pulls him into a hug. He's still shaking and making tiny sad sounds, and his tears make her shoulder wet. So she gently runs her hand up and down his back, the way Mike does when she has a flashback and gets scared. She rocks him side to side, just a subtle sway; Joyce does that sometimes, it always feels so safe to be held like that, and Will sways back and forth when he's nervous so it must help him feel better, too.

It does help. A lot. It's a massive weight off his chest to tell someone. And she didn't react in disgust the way he was sure normal people would. It'd probably be just as safe to tell Jonathan, too, and maybe his mom. Lonnie isn't here to say hurtful things anymore, after all. Family is safe.

El lets go of him when his breathing returns to normal. Will ducks his head and rubs the tears off his face. He always feels so embarrassed for crying or panicking once the moment has passed. And he’s left a big wet stain on her shoulder… El doesn’t seem to mind, of course. She offers him a friendly little smile. He returns it shyly.

“So…” El begins, eyeing him curiously, “...you like boys?”

Will goes bright red and he can’t help but snort in amusement, “Yes, we’ve established that.”

She has a funny sort of grin plastered on her face, as if it’s some exciting secret of theirs, like she’s eager to gossip about this stuff like all the girls at school do. In a sneaky, almost teasing voice she agrees, “Boys... are nice.”

Will blushes even harder. Okay, maybe it does sound kind of fun… He can’t help smiling. “Yeah…”

El giggles softly and pokes him, because he’s super ticklish and tickling Will makes him laugh and smile. It works. “So,” she prompts again, “is there a special boy?”

Ah. There’s the other half of the conversation that he was dreading. He instinctively starts sputtering, “N-no, no, nobody in particular, I mean--”

“ _Wiiiiill,_ ” Eleven starts poking his stomach again, not buying it. “Friends don’t liiiiie, Will…”

“Okay-- okay, alright, stop!” He pushes her hands away and tries not to laugh. This isn’t simple schoolgirl gossip. She catches the urgency in his tone and ceases her tickles. Will takes a deep breath. “That’s um… what I wanted to talk to you about, um… I… there is someone.” His heartbeat is thumping relentlessly in his ears, but he has to confess this to her, he just _has_ to. “It’s… it’s Mike.”

El blinks. Mike… her Mike? He’s _her_ special person… is it possible for someone to Like someone who is already Special with someone else? A thought flashes through her head, that memory of the school, and Mike, smiling at Max. How seeing her smile back at him twisted an odd feeling in her chest, both sad and angry at the same time. It felt like betrayal, like she had been replaced and forgotten. It was a bad feeling, she didn’t like feeling it. Does Will feel like that now that she and Mike are together? He’s fidgeting again, looking down at his hands again, not meeting her eyes like he’s ashamed of himself. El says in a worried whisper, “Are you angry?”

Will jumps at the question. “What? No, of course I’m not angry, I… I thought _you_ would be mad at _me_!”

El shakes her head firmly. She doesn’t want to be angry at Will, she doesn’t want to feel that bad feeling again.

Will is incredibly confused. This is not at all how he thought she would react. But he supposes that’s just how close El and Mike are; the thought of ever losing him like that simply doesn’t cross her mind. He sighs dejectedly. “Well… you’ve got nothing to worry about… Mike’s not… He’s totally crazy about you. I’ve never seen him look at anybody else the way he looks at you. And… even if you’re not mad, I… I’m sorry. I just… He’s my best friend and he’s always there for me, and he’s so... I can’t… I can’t _help_ it...”

El says nothing for a long moment, deep in thought, watching the way the sunlight is catching in his glistening wet eyes and how it keeps changing. He’s hurting again. But a different kind of hurt… Liking boys makes him scared. Liking Mike makes him sad. Not an angry kind of sad. A defeated sad. A lonely, surrendering kind of sad. _Not fair_ , she thinks. It’s not fair for Will to be sad like this when Liking someone is supposed to be a happy feeling. Surely there’s a way for them all to be happy… some kind of compromise...

Will feels so horribly guilty for ever wishing Eleven didn’t exist. She’s not the least bit upset at him for this mess of emotions. And why would she be, after all? He hasn’t done anything to get between her and Mike; he’s not any kind of competition. It was stupid to be so jealous, stupid and selfish and pitiful. All these things that Eleven is not. No wonder he loves her so much. _He deserves someone like her._ He’s about to choke down this stupid crush of his like a bitter spoonful of medicine when she suddenly slips her hands back into his, blinking wide eyes up at him, a bright sort of twinkle shining in them like she’s just discovered the most brilliant idea. “We could _both_ have Mike.”

The suggestion is so innocent and oblivious that it almost doesn’t register in his head. When it does, it completely throws him for a loop (though he guesses that at this point he ought to be used to these sorts of mind-boggling twists and turns that pull the rug out from under him and make him question reality). “Wh-- we-- no! No, no, that’s… that’s not how it works!”

“Why not?”

“Because it _isn’t,_ he’s dating _you_!”

“He can date you, too.”

Will knows for a fact that his face is flushed redder than it’s ever been before. “No, you can’t date two people at the same time, that would be _cheating_! Cheating is like lying, El!”

“But if I know, and I say it’s okay…”

“No, no, no no _no_ ,” he tugs his shirt collar up to his forehead to hide his raging blush. What is she even talking about? It sounds so _wrong_ , so _scandalous_ ! And she’s acting like she _wants_ Mike to be with him, too… To Will’s horror, his insides flutter with a tiny bit of excitement at the idea. _Stop, no, don’t think about that, it can’t happen, please don’t get your hopes up…_

“...we could all be happy,” Eleven finishes softly.

Will pulls his shirt back down and hugs his knees. He can’t believe he’s even having this conversation. “But Mike isn’t like me, he likes girls, he likes _you_ too much! We can’t force him to do that, not when he only likes one of us that way.”

“How do you know?”

“What?”

“How do you know he only likes one?”

There’s something about the way she glances off to the side when she asks that. Like she knows something, or at least wonders about it. Will pauses. Well if Mike loves El as much as he does, then he clearly likes girls, so there’s no way he could be gay… right? Will _thought_ he liked Jennifer Hayes once, because every boy his age has a crush on one of the pretty popular girls at some point, but the feeling turned out to be no different than simply wanting to be friends with somebody. Maybe it’s like that, thinking you’re one but you’re actually the other… Or is it possible to like both boys _and_ girls? Will has no idea if that’s even a thing.

“Mike was hurting, too,” El admits, “Last night.”

Will blinks out of his thoughts at that, suddenly worried. “What? Is he okay? Hurting about what?” The talk he had with Mike last night… did he say something wrong? Did pushing him away like that hurt his feelings? All Will could remember of last night was Mike’s adamant devotion to their friendship, words that sounded like forever and made his heart leap to hear Mike say, then the gut-wrenching realization that if Mike was really saying these things to him, then it’s not because he means it the way Will’s free-falling heart was hearing. _But what if he did?_

El shakes her head. “He’s confused. Scared.” She touches a stray tear on Will’s cheek, “Hurting like you.”

“But… but that doesn’t mean he… _likes_ me-- boys, I mean.” _Slow down, heartbeat, slow down…_

“I can ask Mike,” El replies, as though it’s the obvious solution.

Will waves frantic hands at her, “N--no, no no, no you can’t just _ask_ that! If you ask then he’ll _know_ ! You promised not to tell anybody, and that means _especially_ not Mike!”

Eleven stares him down. “Will. I won’t tell. Only ask.”

His reddened cheeks pale under her sharp, serious gaze. El is serious about her promises. He really shouldn’t be questioning that. So he sighs, giving in. “Okay… but if he only likes girls then we can’t ‘both have Mike’, alright? And we can’t talk about this stuff anywhere else, only here.”

El nods once in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

Max is extraordinarily annoyed with this whole situation. Even with the sour grapes left out of the bunch, things still feel off. Lucas and Dustin seem distracted and can't quite bring their game at the arcade, and it's getting increasingly hard to beat her own top scores, so they opt to spend their quarters at the pizza joint nearby instead. As the boys dig into the sausage and pepperoni half of the pie (Max called dibs on the entire cheese-only half, and she can in fact eat it all herself, thank you very much), her thoughts are distracted by that day's weird vibe, too.

"So any ideas on what kinda stick is up Mike's butt today?" she asks them.

Lucas sighs, shaking his head like he's tired of pondering the topic. "I don't even know, man..."

"You think it's something to do with Will? I mean... they were both acting weird. Maybe they got in a fight."

Dustin shrugs and says through a mouthful of pizza, "Doubt it. Mike can be an asshole, sure. But he'd never get that mad at Will."

"Yeah, he's too much of a pushover when it comes to him, even before everything that happened," Lucas agrees, rolling his eyes.

Max cocks an eyebrow at that understatement; one of the first, most obvious things she had noticed about Mike was how different he acts towards Will. He'll never stray far from his side and always speaks in a softer, gentler voice to him than his usual tone. And of course it's hard not to pick up on the nonstop gush of heart-eyes Will makes whenever he does. Max is almost positive that whatever's eating Mike right now is the same thing that's bothering Will, too. She wants to push the topic more, but isn't sure how much the boys know. Considering the town they're living in and everyone's bitchy attitude about anything remotely weird, she doubts it would be in good taste-- or safe, for that matter-- to out Will without asking his permission first. So she turns to another one of Mike's sensitive spots: his girlfriend. "Maybe it's about El, then."

Both boys nod as though that's a more likely reason. They all love Eleven, they really do, but nobody can deny that Mike's attachment makes him particularly crazy. Most cases of Wheeler Drama are in some way related to her. He's been noticeably less bitchy since El came back, though, especially if she's in the same room. With the flip of a damn switch he'll turn into a puddle of mush around her and use the same soft, gentle voice that he does with Will. Max contemplates that thought, not even noticing when Dustin reaches for one of her cheese slices. Perhaps Will's conspicuous crush on Mike is what's complicating their friendship, since the guy is so blind to anybody else in the room if El exists. It would explain the depressed haze that was following Will around. But again, if that's what the issue is, Mike's behavior still doesn't make sense. His parents are conservative as hell, but not Mike. He's the first in line to fight any dickhead who dares crack a joke calling Will queer. Finding out that his best friend has the hots for him would at most be met with awkward sympathy, and he would definitely not just drop their friendship altogether because of it.

Max breaks out of her train of thought when Dustin tries to sneak a second slice of her pizza. Lucas is smacking his arm and giving him a horrified stare, knowing full well what a dangerous move swiping his girlfriend's food is. She ignores it, however, and decides to take matters into her own hands. Maybe if she can clear up this party drama now, it won't get any worse. Max stands up to leave, leans over and pecks Lucas on the cheek, and snatches the pizza slice out of Dustin's hand before he can take a bite. She stuffs it into her mouth with a salute goodbye on her way out.

It would've been faster on one of their bikes, but she makes it to the Wheelers' house in decent time on her board anyway. Convincing Mike's mom to invite her in is easy, thanks to how much her sleazy step-brother had wooed the poor woman. She just puts on a sweet smile with a few choice words: "important school project", "Billy says hi", "I can call him to come pick me up later", and the door opens wide. As she guessed, Mike is sulking in the basement. Another lucky guess, he's not happy to see her.

"What are you doing here?" Mike demands, standing up.

Max shoves him back down onto the couch and gets right to the point, "Calling you out on your bullshit, that's what."

" _ What _ _?_ "

"Look, I don't know what your issue is, but you've gotta stop taking it out on your friends. You've been an asshole to us all day and I'm sick of it."

She's standing squarely in front of him, staring him down. Mike squirms uncomfortably beneath her fiery gaze, but there is no escape. Weakly, he mutters, "It's not even about  _ you _ ..."

"Who's it about then, huh?" Max crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows. "Is it about Will? 'Cause you've clearly been avoiding  _ him _ in particular."

Mike frowns, pointedly staring at the floor.

"I don't know what kind of fight happened between you two, but Will was acting like a beaten puppy all day long and you wouldn't even  _ look _ at him!" She huffs out an incredulous laugh, "I can't believe I have to tell  _ you _ , of all people, to not be a jerk to Will Byers, but here we are!"

He blinks back up at her, downright offended, and starts protesting. The stuttering way he's yelling back makes it painfully obvious that she's hit the nail right on the head. "Wh-- I'm not being a jerk to Will! And it wasn't a fight, it wasn't! I'm not-- he-- I didn't mean to..." Mike growls and stands up again, getting right in her face, "Why are you even worrying about it? It's none of your business! What do you know?"

"I  _ don't _ know!" Max snarls. "I don't know a goddamn thing about you, Mike Wheeler, but I do know that your friends care about you a lot, and when you act like a bitch, you hurt them! Lucas and Dustin miss you to death! And  _ Will _ ...?" She scoffs, gesturing like the unfinished sentence speaks for itself.

Mike's cheeks flush angrily. "Yeah, what about him?"

She blanches; how dumb _is_ he? "What, you haven't figured it out yet? Dustin was right, you are that oblivious."

"What are you  _ talking _ about?" He's turning an impressive shade of red when the walkie talkie over in the fort corner crackles to life.

"Mike?" Guess who.

Unsurprisingly, Mike drops their argument immediately to go answer El's call. He pushes right past her to crawl under the table and blankets, leaving Max to wonder why she even bothered to come here in the first place.

"El? I'm here, over," he replies.

"Mike," her voice over the radio static is low and serious, and without warning she asks, "do you like boys?"

The boiling atmosphere screeches to an icy halt. There's a long beat of silence.

Max pivots around and stares, her jaw going slack and eyes just about popping out of her head. Oh,  _ really _ ? Well  _ this _ is a new development. All the dots begin to connect in her head while all the color drains from Mike's face. He shuts the super-com off in a panic, but of course that doesn't stop Eleven. Her voice rings out anyway, "Last night, when you were confused. Was that why?"

Mike makes an odd noise akin to a kettle whistle and hurriedly answers, "El, I--I can't talk right now, I'll call you back later, okay?"

" _ Mike-- _ "

"I'LL CALL YOU BACK LATER!" He shoves the bulky device under some nearby pillows and sits on it to drown out anything else his filterless girlfriend decided to blurt. To his relief she seems to have taken the hint and shut up, because there is only muffled static.

Max still stands on the opposite side of the room in stunned silence, gears turning in her head. By his reaction alone it's easy to deduct that yeah; Mike Wheeler likes boys. A sneaky grin tugs at her cheeks, like she's won a bet, "Oh man, I  _ so _ called it."

He glares and balls up his fists like he's about to argue, but all comebacks die in his throat. So he just shrinks deeper into the fort with tightly crossed arms and a tense expression on his face somewhere between mortified and furious. Mad Max- 1, Mike- 0. With a short laugh, she saunters over and drops to her knees in front of him. Giving his shoulder a light punch (he recoils like it hurt anyway, what a wimp), she says, "Look, lover boy, I don't give a shit what you're into; just suck it up already and apologize to Will, or whatever you gotta do to fix things, alright? The drama's annoying."

She makes a move to turn and leave, and that's when he snaps out of it; Mike starts squeaking like a terrified guinea pig, "I-- it's not-- El, she doesn't-- this isn't-- I'm--I  _ don't-- _ "

Max frowns at his frantic denial. Is he seriously still panicking? She sits back down and looks him square in the face, "Dude, it's  _ okay _ . Chill."

There's a tremor of confusion and troubled emotion in Mike's eye. Max isn't expecting him to say anything more--not to her, at least. They're better friends now than they were a couple months ago, but she had come to terms with the fact that she might never fully win Mike over. Something about one another just rubs them the wrong way, like two songs being played at the same time but in different keys so every note clashes. They could hardly hang out together with the party without bumping shoulders and getting in each other's way for one reason or another. Deep heart-to-hearts alone with Mike are pretty much out of the question... So she is completely taken off-guard when he breaks. Tears well up in his eyes and he collapses into ugly sobs right in front of her. Tangling his fingers in his hair, he chokes out, "No, it's not okay, it's not okay! I can't-- with El, and... it's  _ not _ okay..."

Max doesn't quite know how to react. He just suddenly shrank into a tiny, scared little boy, like the defensive smart-ass side to him that she always saw was nothing more than a thin facade hiding a softer, more sensitive human heart behind it. It's a familiar sight, she realizes; he's been throwing up walls and fighting anything that tries to break through, afraid to admit how much he feels because vulnerability is dangerous, and if he lets anybody in again they'll only hurt him. It's like looking in a goddamn mirror, Max thinks with a sigh, and that makes it all too easy to understand what he's going through. "Mike... relax, alright? Nothing wrong with liking guys."

"I know, I know, but--"

"So it's no big deal to be into both guys  _ and _ girls," she argues. "It's not that weird, it's called being bi."

Mike sniffles and lifts his head, confused. She motions to the spot under the fort next to him, silently asking if it's okay to sit there. He nods miserably, giving up trying to push her away. Max cracks a small smile and considers this a triumph. She crawls into the shadows to huddle beside him and continues quietly, "People aren't so stuck up about this stuff where I'm from. So like... it really is a thing. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Mike's not looking at her, but his shoulders are relaxing and jagged breaths are slowly smoothing out. She gets the feeling that he still doesn't quite believe her, but the idea is some tiny bit of comfort at least.

"Look," Max hesitates, but sighs and says it anyway, "me, too."

He finally turns to look at her at that.

"There was this girl back in California... Her name was Kate. Super cool, really pretty, even better at skating than me... I had a massive crush on her, that much was obvious. I was super confused about what I was feeling, because I still got crushes on boys, too... So I asked my dad what was going on, and... it's called being bisexual. My dad was always really open about this stuff, it was never a big deal to him... It was nice, y'know?"

Mike frowns, "Didn't your mom and stepdad move to get away from your dad?"

Max snorts bitterly. "Yeah. My mom thought he was a 'bad influence' just because he wasn't prejudiced... When she found out that Kate and I were dating and he had kept it a secret from her to protect me... that pretty much sealed the deal, and well... Here we are in Indiana."

Mike doesn't say anything for a long moment. She leans over and bumps his shoulder lightheartedly; that makes him slip a tiny smile. He looks a lot less troubled now, like just knowing he isn't alone is an enormous relief. It's truly an odd thing for him and Max to be bonding over, but it's happening.

"I get that it's hard to be this way when your whole family's against you. But it's not something you gotta hate yourself for, alright?" With a soft laugh she bumps him again, "And it's not fair to be an asshole to your friends because of it, either. Will really looked upset today, I think you should apologize to him."

"Yeah..."


	4. Chapter 4

Will rocks restlessly in place, his knees curled tight to his chest, replaying the brief radio exchange in his head.

"Mike, do you like boys?"

_"..."_

"Last night, when you were confused. Was that why?"

_"...El, I-- I can't talk right now, I'll call you back later, okay?"_

"Mike--"

_"I'LL CALL YOU BACK LATER!"_

There had been such a long silence. And he had sounded panicked. And, well... he didn't say _no_... Will swallows the hopeful butterflies inside him for now, it might be nothing, maybe his parents called him away or something...

Eleven still sits across from him with the super-com in her hands. She's idly chewing on her bottom lip, waiting for Mike to keep his word and call back, but aside from the slight impatient sighs she hardly seems anxious.

"Do you really think he might...?" Will stammers. El glances up and gives him an honest shrug.

After what feels like hours, the radio feed crackles again and Mike's voice comes through, "El... you still there? Over."

His voice is quieter and wobbly, like he's been crying. This sends a spike of concern into Will's chest, drowning out the anxiety for a moment. Did somebody overhear? His parents? Did they yell at him or hurt him because of what El was implying? But no, no, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler aren't that extreme... But then again, if they knew-- or even thought-- that would be enough to scare him, and even a disappointed shake of the head could be a crushing blow. Mike will never admit it to anybody else, but Will knows how easy it is to hurt him and send his self-esteem crumbling away to dust. He almost wants to reply himself, to ask Mike what's wrong. He holds back, however, because El glances at him and says into the walkie talkie speaker, "Here."

There's another long silence. Then, even quieter, "One or two?"

El locks eyes with Will. He's anxious and shy about the whole situation, of course, but that doesn't matter; if Mike is upset and needs comfort, then he can't deny him that just because he has an embarrassing crush on him. Will nods.

"Two," Eleven says.

 

_Two_. She's at the Byers'.

Mike takes a deep breath, hardly able to believe he'd ever be this nervous to go to Will's house. He wants to talk to El about it, really he does, but the thought of answering her question truthfully is terrifying, let alone within earshot of Will... He grits his teeth, fighting back against his own feelings; why should it matter if Will knows, too? It wouldn't change anything, Will would still be his best friend. After all, he was always able to tell Will anything. Any worry or insecurity, whatever Troy and his minions had tormented him about that day, things he was embarrassed to let Lucas and Dustin in on. Will never judged him. He'd listen and tell him about his own similar experiences and comfort him by just sitting with him in silence or making him laugh. Getting Mike to talk about something else that he's interested in, like sharing a new comic he'd gotten or telling him about a particularly interesting movie he saw, was a common way of distracting him. Even if it was a topic Will had heard him blabber on and on about plenty of times before, he always listened, and it did help him feel better pretty quickly. Maybe that's what he liked about El to begin with, too; he never got the feeling that either of them were annoyed by him or tired of listening to him talk. So if he can talk to El about this crisis he's having, surely he can talk to Will, too.

But the flip in his stomach seems to say otherwise. _Why not?_ he wonders bitterly. A series of images fly through his mind, images of Will smiling and laughing and flashing those adorable crooked teeth, the way his eyes can light up in so many shades of blue and brown and green like sunlight on a lake, his soft brown hair blowing in the wind when they used to bike to and from school every day, floating back away from his forehead and ears which were so often hidden from sight. The way his shoulders fit so perfectly under Mike's arm, the way he'd sometimes briefly, timidly, lean his cheek on Mike's shoulder when he did.

_Because you don't_ just _like boys,_ that voice in his head replies cheekily (it sounds like Dustin this time), _you like Will Byers._

And that is a complicated issue to discuss with both your girlfriend and your best friend/crush.

At least El didn't seem to be worried or jealous. There was only genuine curiosity in her voice when she'd asked. He's kind of surprised, to be honest, because she had been bitterly jealous of Max that one time-- even though all she saw was the two of them talking.

Speaking of, Max is still huddled under the fort next to him... Another thing that surprises him is how easily she had flipped from frenemy to confidant. Usually being in the same room as her would irritate him to high heaven, yet now she's seated comfortably beside him (in the fort, on _sacred ground_ , no less) and he actually feels comforted by her presence. The simple fact that they have something in common, and a pretty deep personal thing, at that, has turned their entire relationship around so quickly. It's honestly really nice of her to be comforting him now... and she cared enough about his friendships with the others that she took it upon herself to try and straighten things out. Lucas' mushy fondness for the redhead is starting to make sense.

"Now's your chance," Max quips, elbowing him.

Right... Eleven is on the other radio, waiting for a response... she's at Will's house... and he knows that he needs to apologize to Will for today and talk to El about his dilemma. Now's as good a time as ever; it's a Friday, so Ms. Byers is working late and so is Jonathan, probably, and his mom wouldn't completely wig out if he went over this late. Max raises her eyebrows at him. Now or never. Mike sets his jaw and says into the super-com, "I'll be there in ten. Over and out."

Before he can change his mind, he bolts out from under the blanket fort. Right before he's out the door, he vaguely hears Max call after him, "Go get 'em!"

Mike isn't sure why he's pedaling his bike so fast. A rush of adrenaline is coursing through him, and his heart is pounding in his ears like it's propelling him forward. It's beyond all logic, because just minutes before he had been cowering in fear from his own feelings, yet now he's bursting to take a risky leap of faith. Maybe it's a stupid decision to fly to Will's doorstep like a romcom cliché, proclaiming his tragic love and begging for forgiveness from both Will and Eleven... But it's too late now, his feet are already off the ground, and the familiar sight of the Byers house is materializing out of the trees. Just before he reaches the front porch his eye catches two small figures emerging from the woods behind the house; Mike hurriedly parks his bike and peeks around the corner.

His breath catches in his throat and he's momentarily floored by the sight of them, _both of them,_ his two most favorite people in the world, walking casually towards the back of the house side by side. El is holding Will's hand and swinging it playfully back and forth, and Will is giggling at her and bumping shoulders with her to get her to stop. Mike's heart is flying and he can't even distinguish which of their smiles is making it do that. But then they're coming closer, and all his spontaneous courage drains away when he realizes he actually has to _say things_ to them...

"Shit," Mike hisses, ducking back around the corner. _Okay, okay, be cool,_ he tells himself. _All you have to do is say it, and then you can move on and..._ Mike's train of thought comes to a screeching halt. And _then_ what? Just confess to your lifelong best friend that you're in love with him, and then go back to your girlfriend and soulmate whom you have no intention of ever leaving? Apologize for pouring out your heart and then avoiding him, then pour your heart right back out just to abandon him again? _Oh, god, what am I doing…_

 

Almost immediately after the screen on the back door clatters into place behind them, El and Will hear a sharp knock at the front door. It's so loud and insistent that Will jumps, his heart rate sent into a panicked flurry simply out of instinct. But then a voice calls through the wooden barrier, a human, familiar voice, not Lonnie's voice (that fact alone calms more than half of his momentary fears). It's Mike's.

"Hello? Will, El, it's… It’s me.”

It most certainly has not been ten minutes yet, how in the world did he get here so fast? Helplessly, Will turns to Eleven; she’s side-eyeing him with a small smile. She nods her head towards the door. What, she expects _him_ to answer the door? Mike’s clearly here to see _her_ , and he can’t answer right now, not when his face is still red and puffy from crying and he’s all shaken about admitting his crush in the first place! Will gestures frantically, silently begging her to talk to Mike first, so he can catch a breath and prepare. There’s another couple knocks.

“Guys, it’s Mike… Listen, Will…I uh, I need to talk to you…”

El raises her eyebrows smugly and turns around to wander down the hall, ignoring Will’s flailing. Right when he’s about to take off after her to drag her along with him, the collar of his shirt raises off his chest and decides to tug him towards the door instead (he tosses El a death glare to match her concentrated telekinesis stare). Taking a deep yet shaky breath, Will turns the doorknob, swings it open just long enough to step outside himself, then turns back around to close it. His breath is still shaky when he releases it.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, fluttering a shy glance at Mike over his shoulder.

The boy stands there flushed and out of breath, windswept black hair a wavy mess, and maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him but Will notices a new sort of glimmer in his eyes. He’s staring back at Will like it’s the first time he’s seeing him, like he’s he’s known him forever and yet only just discovered him.

“Hey,” Mike replies, and Will’s throat catches at how ridiculously cute he looks right now, with his hands flexing restlessly at his sides and eyes flicking from Will to the ground and back again and every little nervous twitch in his expression.

Will ducks to hide the oncoming anxious blush. “Hi…” he says again.

When he turns away slightly, Mike seems to come back to his senses. He stuffs his hands in his coat pockets and kicks at the chipped wooden deck, “Listen, um… What I said yesterday… I didn’t really mean for it to come out like that, and… sorry if I made things awkward…”

Will’s heart sinks. So all of that about needing him, and never leaving him, and how nothing in this universe or any beyond could stop him from being there for him… He really did mean it as a friend. Right along with his heart, Will’s stomach drops, too. He must have noticed the lovestruck look on Will’s face last night, he must have _realized_ how much Will likes him, and it must have made him feel so _awkward_ because of _course_ he doesn’t feel the same way, and then he was acting so uncomfortable at school and then El called and asked him-- oh _no_. To his horror he feels the prick of tears forming in his eyes again, “Mike, I’m sor--”

“And then I was being so stupid today, and you were upset and I didn’t even notice, and that’s not fair, I should have at least _talked_ to you, but I was too nervous because--”

“No, it’s not your fault, you don’t have to apologize--”

“Yes I _do_ ! Because it’s stupid, I’m stupid, I’m so _stupid_! And I just--”

“Mike, you’re _not_ \--”

“ _I don’t want you to hate me!_ ” he cries.

Will gapes at him, “Why would _I_ hate _you_?”

“Because--!” Mike’s voice gets caught in his throat. Will waits for him to find his words again, trying to read the look in Mike’s eye. He’s absolutely bursting with _something_ , some kind of emotion, like remorse or frustration or--

Suddenly Mike’s hands are reaching for his face and he’s rushing forward and his lips are crashing into Will’s and _oh my god_ Mike is _kissing_ him, and suddenly the words they were spouting become an echo of meaningless gibberish and the entire world dissolves into just Mike, _Mike_ , everywhere, all around him, all at once--

As quickly as it came, the moment escapes. Mike lets go of Will and stumbles backwards like he’s afraid that his touch might have burned him. In a broken voice he sputters, “Shit-- oh god, I’m-- I’m sorry, _fuck_ , I’m so sorr--”

In a frantic rush, relief and excitement and joy exploding inside his chest like fireworks, Will hops up on his tiptoes and grasps his shoulders to recapture Mike’s kiss before it flies away. Mike stumbles again, not expecting him to respond like that, but he saw the enamored glow in Will’s eyes and it all falls into place, and now he’s holding Will close with his lips pressed tenderly to his own… He’s so small and soft and warm and he smells like pine trees and crayons and candles that have just been blown out, and kissing him feels so different than kissing El because he’s shy but he’s so _responsive_. Kissing El is like calming a storm, wild electricity that soothes into a steady, comforting heartbeat. Kissing Will is like chasing fireflies, catching one little glow after another until there are hundreds of lights dancing around him like shooting stars, and he’s so alive and bright and for a moment Mike can’t understand why they’ve never done this before.

Will’s burst of energy is brief, however, and he pulls his lips away with sudden timidity, though his arms are still looped around Mike’s neck. The tips of their noses brush ever so slightly. Neither one wants to back away any further.

Mike finds his voice, and he whispers softly, “...Really?”

Will’s heels lower back to the floor and he hides his blushing face in the shadow under Mike’s chin. “It’s always been this way.”

 

Eleven is inside and out of sight, but simply by closing her eyes and focusing on the energies of the two boys on the front porch, she sees it all. Her senses reach out and feel each swell of emotion, each pulse of nervous electricity and spike of adrenaline and brilliant surge of what she can only describe as “Happy”. She smiles as the two erratic balls of uncomfortable static collide into a single swirl of warmth, finally settling into something calm and peaceful. _Happy_.

El opens the front door to find Will leaning into Mike’s chest, his hands curled around his shoulders and Mike’s arms loosely around Will’s waist, like when she and Mike danced at the Snow Ball. Finally together after so long. It tugs at something in her chest to see them like that, because it’s not _her_... but Mike is doing that very same soft smile that he does around her, and she doesn’t think Will has ever smiled so bright. Her boys are happy. And that’s all she wants for them.

Mike jumps back when he sees her, however. His face is already quite pink, but he reddens even more, shame and fear and uncertainty radiating off him immediately. But it’s soon turned to confusion, because El is... grinning? She throws her arms around him for a hug, then turns to Will and hugs him, too, and Mike is completely lost on what she's being so celebratory about.

"B--but... what... I thought you'd...?" His girlfriend is hugging him because he kissed a boy, what kind of wacky universe did they fall into this time?

El grabs Mike's hand and explains excitedly, "We can be happy now! Will likes you--" (Will blushes madly--) "and you like Will, too! We can share!"

Her explanation does nothing to help Mike understand what's happening; shouldn't she be upset that he's essentially cheating on her? What is she _talking about?_ "Share, share what?"

There's a brief moment of silence in which Mike stares between the two of them, gears spinning in his brain as fast as they can manage. Will's mouth tightens a bit. He's red as a beet. Eleven blinks innocently and replies, "You."

_Me... Share... me?_

Right as it clicks and Mike catches onto what she's saying, Will cries hurriedly, "It was her idea, I swear!"

It's certainly not the first time that he's been shell-shocked by something El conjured up with her mind. But this is so beyond anything he could have imagined ever happening. El likes him. Will likes him. They _both_ like him and want to be with him. And they like him enough to want to _share_ him. How would that even work? Does he even _deserve_ so much love? He often has a hard time believing he is enough to be worthy of El alone. "So... you're saying that you want me to be dating you..." he turns slowly from El to Will, "... _and_ you, too? At... the same time?"

El nods. Will shakes his head.

"You don't have to, it's okay, really... I know it sounds crazy and totally not normal and all..." he's shrinking back towards the door in embarrassment, but El slips her hand into his and gives it an encouraging squeeze.

"And...you'd be okay with that?" Mike asks her.

"Yes," El replies sincerely. "We can all be happy."

Will still looks terribly embarrassed, however. Mike swallows nervously, "So... would you really... want to? I mean..." He isn't quite sure what words to say. Would it even be a good idea? Would he feel like they just stuck him in as a last minute add-on? Relationships are supposed to be two people one-on-one... would it be fair to have to split his affections between the two of them? El seems to think it's a good idea now, but would she feel replaced whenever he's with Will? And vice versa, would Will feel abandoned when he's with El? Would it get in the way of their friendship with each other?

Mike notes the way El is holding tight to Will's hand, promising trust and offering support. Her reassurance is well received, too; he's smiling warmly at her, and though he's still shy and unsure he is standing a little taller. Perhaps it wouldn't change anything between the two of them at all. They obviously love each other very dearly as best friends and pseudo-siblings. Mike turns to Will, "Do _you_ want to...?"

Will glances shyly up at Mike and nods, "Yeah... that would be nice."

Maybe it could work, the three of them together. It might be worth a shot, at least. Feeling too much wouldn't be a problem anymore, because now he'll have _two_ people to pour his bleeding heart out for, and no one would feel left out. Somehow it just... makes sense. Mike gulps. "O-okay."

El and Will send each other smiles. They look so happy. Mike's heart skips a beat as it sinks in... _He_ made them happy... They're all together now. He can hold him and lean on her and hold his hand and kiss her and kiss him, too, and everything is okay because they understand.

El squeezes Mike's hand and leans up to place a warm kiss on his cheek. Will timidly takes Mike's other hand and stands up on his tiptoes again to kiss his other cheek. Mike blushes and grins at the floor. Yes... this feels right.


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan is just finishing up his shift when Nancy drops by the little corner drug store. She greets him with flirty banter and a quick kiss, and suggests they go out for a movie tonight. Jonathan reluctantly turns down the offer; his mom is working late and El's visiting so he has to stick around the house.

Nancy jokes that El is probably more than enough security, Will is plenty safe with her around.

"Well yeah, but who's gonna keep them from eating all the ice cream and wrecking the house on a sugar high?" he replies cheekily.

Nancy laughs, "Oh, like your house isn't constantly a wreck anyway?"

"Ha ha, real funny."

Nancy persists, however; it's been weeks since they've had a chance to even hang out together aside from in class. "We could still do a movie, I can rent one and come over."

"You know there's no privacy at all at my place, right? Wouldn't exactly be the most romantic movie night with two nosy thirteen year olds breathing down our necks."

"I'll make sure the movie is appropriate for the children, then," she jokes. "Besides, I don't mind hanging out with them, too. It could be fun!"

Nancy loves watching Jonathan interact with his little brother and his friends, she must admit. He's generally pretty quiet around most people, but with them he's so much more vibrant, more like himself, in the way he smiles and the way he talks. Though he would brush her off and deny it if she said so, Jonathan is practically made to be a dad. It's downright adorable. Plus, Nancy hasn't had much chance to spend any one-on-one girl time with Eleven, and she knows how much she looks up to her. (She has plenty of embarrassing stories about Mike to share with her, too.)

Jonathan gives in to Nancy's pleading puppy eyes as expected. They pick up a couple VHS rentals to choose from and he drives them back to his house just as the sun is touching the bright orange horizon. When they set foot inside the door, they come upon an odd sight. Unlike the irrational fear chewing at the back of Jonathan's mind that they would come home to not one but two missing kids, instead they appear to have acquired a third. Although it should be no surprise that Mike Wheeler invited himself over on a Friday evening, what's surprising is that he is sound asleep sitting on their couch, sandwiched between Eleven and Will. El is cuddled up on his right, hugging his arm with their hands intertwined and her head resting on his shoulder. Mike is leaning his cheek on her head and likely about to start drooling judging by the way his mouth is hanging open. Will is nestled close beneath his left arm. He's curled up in a tight ball with his knees almost in Mike's lap and one hand lightly clinging to the front of his shirt.

Nancy makes a face as though she's stumbled upon the cutest thing she's ever seen as well as the greatest opportunity for sibling blackmail ever presented to her. She motions for Jonathan to stay quiet and they exchange a sly grin. He sneaks past her to grab his camera, which is sitting on one of their mismatched end tables. The shutters click loudly.

El is the first to react to the noise; she jolts awake and stiffens, holding one arm out defensively. Jerking her head away jostles Mike's, and he snaps up with a loud snort that startles Will.

Nancy laughs out loud. (Her brother leaps up instantly to chase her down and tackle her.)

" _Jonathannnn_!" Will whines sleepily, disappointed that Mike's warmth is gone.

Jonathan chuckles and drops his bag onto the chair next to him. After quickly snapping a photo of Nancy and Mike's lighthearted wrestling (Nancy is winning), he looks back at the two on the couch, "It's barely past seven, how are you guys tired already?"

"I couldn't sleep last night," Will replied quietly.

"Yeah? You feeling okay?"

El decides to answer for him, "He is now."

Will nudges her leg with his foot and glares warningly at her. She just blinks innocently.

"Well Nancy is staying for dinner, and I guess Mike is, too, and we're gonna put on a movie later. But I suppose you're too tired to watch with us, so..."  
He perks up right away. "What movie'd you get?"

 

Their food options are more limited than Jonathan previously thought, but thanks to the surplus of extra Eggo boxes that Joyce keeps in the freezer (she spoils El at every single opportunity), they decide to go with "breakfast for dinner" with a twist, adding on anything else they find. There isn't much syrup left, so Will decides to make his waffles into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich instead. Mike always loads his with as much syrup as possible, but he reluctantly holds off so El can have some, too (she's got her own ideas, however, sneaking a can of whipped cream out of the fridge when the others aren't looking). While Jonathan scrambles some eggs, Nancy uses their phone to call home.

"Yeah, Mike's here, too. No, he was when we got here... We're staying over for dinner; that's okay, right? And Jonathan rented some movies, so-- no, Ms. Byers isn't home yet, but-- _Mom_ , we're fine, I promise. Yeah, he can drive us home after."

"Ask if I can stay over tonight!" Mike calls across the room.

Nancy sighs, then adds, "Mike says he wants to spend the night... Well I can stay til Ms. Joyce gets home from work, then. Yes, I know-- _no_ , Mom, I promise I'll be home by ten. Okay. Yeah, I know. Okay, I will. Yes-- _Okay_ . Bye, Mom." Nancy hangs up the phone and shoots Mike an annoyed glare; of course _he_ gets to spend the night with his secret girlfriend while _she_ has to have a curfew... Mike sticks his tongue out at her. The rest of the table giggles, and even Jonathan chuckles under his breath. "Will, I'm trusting you to keep an eye on those two," Nancy declares seriously, pointing her fork at Mike and El. "No leaving them alone together, got it?"

Will nods, totally okay with that task. The three exchange glances, trying not to laugh; she has absolutely no idea.

After dinner, Nancy and Jonathan return to the living room to set up the VCR. Since Nancy has to leave first, she gets first pick, and neither Will nor Mike is all that interested in the cheesy romcom she'd selected. El seems to be mildly intrigued, but chooses to follow the boys back to Will's room. They have some things to discuss in private, anyway.

The three of them sit in a circle on Will's bed and wait til they hear the TV so it'll drown out their conversation.

Mike gets right to the big question: "So... how's all this supposed to work exactly?"

There's a pause, everyone deep in thought. Will is the first to answer, "Well... El is still your girlfriend," he says slowly, "and I guess... I'm secretly your... boyfriend?"

It sounds so odd and out of place to hear the word "boyfriend" out loud...

El cocks her head slightly. "Why secretly?"

Will turns to her and explains, "El, I told you, everybody thinks boys liking boys is weird. We can't just _date_ each other. Everyone already makes fun of me, but if people found out, they would be mean to Mike, too! Plus, it would look like he's being all sneaky and cheating on his girlfriend with the local queer!"

Mike looks sadly over at him. "Don't call yourself that..."

"You know that's what they would think, though."

There's such a dull sort of acceptance in Will's voice. Like he's already decided that he's destined to be just a dirty little secret and nothing more if it'll save whatever's left of Mike's reputation. Mike frowns. _It's not fair..._ "Well maybe I don't want to care what _they_ think! I..." he stutters and blushes, "I don't want to pretend like I don't love you, too..."

Will isn't expecting such a bold statement so soon. He glows red and can't help smiling. It's a nice sentiment; hardly realistic, but Mike is so cute when he's dramatic... "Well... we have to pretend like El doesn't exist, right? So technically you're dating her in secret, too."

"I guess..."

"We can figure that part out later." Will gives him a reassuring smile, "I'm okay with us being a secret, really."

"What about our friends?" El asks. "Can they know?"

Mike still looks unsure. Some part of him wants to hide, because the more people who know the harder it'll be to keep it a secret, and as much as he desperately wants to love them both freely, it's definitely a weird situation to have to explain to the rest of the world. But honestly, the party has been through so much weirder... If anybody's going to be willing to accept it, Dustin, Lucas, and Max surely would.  "I dunno... maybe," he decides. "I mean... we all knew Will liked boys--"

 _"What?!"_ Will squeaks in alarm.

"It's okay, they don't care, we never minded!" Mike adds hurriedly, "And, well... I talked to Max today--"

"Wait--you actually _talked_ to _Max_?" All of Will's panic from having been figured out by all his friends is promptly replaced by blunt disbelief.

Mike throws up his hands in exasperation, "She came to my house and trapped me, okay, I had no choice! She was there when you called, so she knows about _me_ now..."

Eleven speaks up suddenly, "Max won't mind. She likes girls."

Both boys freeze and turn to stare at her. Mike is shocked that she knows that; Will is just shocked in general.

"H--How did...?"  
"She keeps a picture hidden in her bag," El explains, "Her and a girl. I think she was her girlfriend."

The amount of information that she can extract from looking at one single photograph of somebody is still mind-blowing. Mike blinks and shakes his head, deciding not to question it. "Well... don't tell the others, alright, I don't think she wants anyone knowing about that. I don't even think she's told Lucas yet."

Will is pretty gobsmacked by all this new information, but the fact that Mike is defending the latest party member is still somehow the most unbelievable part. Bemused, he teases, "So you and Max are best buddies now, huh?"

Mike reddens and pushes him. "Shut up! What I'm trying to say is I think we can tell the others about us being together..." He pauses; logically, yes, it's safe to let the party know. But the thought of coming out to anyone still feels like a looming shadow, a disaster waiting to happen. "When we're ready," he adds.

All three nod in agreement. There's another long moment of uncertainty. No one knows what to say. _What now?_ Figuring out what to even _do_ in a relationship is hard enough when there's only two people involved...

Will's cheeks redden again as he breaks the silence, "So..."

Mike avoids meeting either of their gazes, instead wondering aloud, "So if El's my girlfriend, and you're my boyfriend..." (Once again it feels so odd to say that... but Mike is starting to warm up to the sound of it.) "...what does that make you two?"

El and Will exchange glances. They hadn't thought of that. Will blinks at her, scrunching up his nose slightly, "I don't... think we're anything?"

El squints at him, trying to piece together the most logical answer. "Would you be... my boyfriend, too?"

It seems like the most obvious scenario; if all three of them are together then surely they are technically dating, too. But it feels more complicated than that, especially since Will's mom and Chief Hopper are not-so-subtly closer now than they used to be... Will frowns, "Maybe...? I don't know, that's kinda weird. I mean... I do love you, El, but... I don't know."

She nods in understanding; she loves him, too, of course. It certainly feels like a different kind of love, though. There's loving Will, and her friends, and Hopper and Joyce. And then there's loving _Mike_ . But maybe, because Mike loves her _and_ Will, she can love Will like she loves Mike, too. "We can try," she suggests quietly. "Just to see."

Will blinks out of his train of thought to blush again. He stammers awkwardly for a second, but then decides that it's probably worth a fair shot. So he nods and sits up a bit straighter. El does the same, inching closer to him so they're directly face to face. They brace themselves and lean in to hesitantly kiss each other on the lips. It's stiff and awkward at first, but El relaxes her posture and Will closes his eyes and Mike just looks on wearing a flustered expression in an impressive shade of crimson. Eleven pulls away first, blinking curious brown eyes at the boy in front of her, silently assessing his reaction. After a moment to let the brief, chaste kiss sink in, Will shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't think so. I didn't feel anything."

El nods right away, deciding, "Yes. Together, but no special kisses."

That sounds fair enough. Will glances shyly over to Mike (who can't seem to decide what to do with his hands or where to be looking), and says quietly, "I'd rather be kissing you anyway..."

Mike pulls a funny face at how cheesy that was, but blushes harder all the same. El glances between them. There's still some unresolved awkwardness buzzing in the air; maybe she ought to leave them to sort it out.

She stands, and Mike panics. "Wh--where are you going?"

She just smiles knowingly at them.

Will hurriedly tries to take back what he just admitted, "You don't... have to leave, though... just 'cause..."

El sighs, still not quite sure why her boys are still so nervous and jumpy about it. She rests a hand on Will's shoulder, "Mike's had lots of alone time with me. I should let him have alone time with you, too." With a quick peck on each of their cheeks as reassurance, she turns and walks quietly out of the room.

Eleven's presence alone counts for at least 80% of their confidence; once the door clicks shut behind her, the room falls back into an awkward, shy sort of tension. A beat of silence passes, then Will says again, "Sooo..." There's a teasing lilt in his voice, which is never a good sign. "You never answered El's question..."

Mike tosses him an annoyed look. "I rode over to your house to make out with you, I think that's enough of an answer."

Will cracks a smile at that and rolls his eyes. "Well okay, yeah, but-- do you like other boys, too? Or just me?"

Mike's face heats up again as he contemplates that. "Well... mostly you... but not like I crush on every girl I see either, because I mostly like El."

He shrugs; that makes sense. "But still, I mean like... when you're just looking around at people, or actors in movies and stuff, and you think 'hey, they're cute'. Is it always girls, or guys, too?"

It's amazing how many shades of red Mike's face can achieve. "I guess I never really thought about it 'til now, but... yeah."

"Yeah? Like who?"

“I don't know..." he mumbles, "I mean, Mark Hamill..." Mike shrugs; that one's a no-brainer.

Will nods immediately, completely serious, "Oh, yeah, _definitely_."

_"Right?"_

The two laugh, dumbfounded that they're actually having this conversation. Awkwardness melts away into giggles, and for a moment they're just kids again, hiding in a blanket fort and building their own little world to play in and tell any story they come up with just because it's fun. No trauma, no bullies or disapproving parents; the monsters and shadows and cold, lonely places to be trapped in are not real. It sends a little flutter through Mike's stomach to see Will laughing again, like _really_ laughing, his cheeks lit up in a pink blush that makes him look more alive than ever.

Suddenly Mike is vividly aware of the fact that he is sitting on Will's bed only inches away from him. Every tiny detail becomes crystal clear. He notices the curve of his jaw, which is more defined than it used to be. He notices the little twitch of a pulse under the skin on his neck. He notices that cute pair of freckles he has right at his throat, and he notices the way the collar of his shirt is slightly askew on his shoulders because it's slightly too big for him. And he notices Will looking up at him, too. There's such a sweet shimmer of admiration in his gaze, a look that is so familiar yet means so much more now, and he isn't looking away when Mike meets his eye this time.

Will lets out a tiny sigh, and along with it he whispers, "You're beautiful."

He says it so softly that Mike almost doesn't hear it. But he does, and it's a phrase he never imagined anyone would say to him, and certainly never thought could make him feel so warm inside. It takes him off guard for a moment; Will Byers, the cutest boy he's ever laid eyes on, just called him beautiful. _Him_ , Mike "Frogface" Wheeler, with his awkward, gangly limbs and long freckly nose and unkempt hair and weird nervous habits. He wants to laugh in disbelief; he must be joking. But Will was never good at lying. And that sappy, sincere look he's giving him is so, so real, as though he's wanted to say that to him for years but was never brave enough to. Things have changed now; Will has found his courage. He's the first to lean in. When he's just centimeters away, Mike whispers back, "You, too."

Will is grinning when their lips collide.

Mike loops one arm around his waist to pull him closer. Will reaches up to caress his cheek and tangle his fingers in his hair. Like before, he kisses with such perfect enthusiasm, moving his mouth against Mike's in a sweet, slow rhythm. Maybe it's because by comparison El is so much more inexperienced with what kisses are like, though she's getting a little braver lately and exploring the boundaries more. Wandering into the unknown with her is exhilarating; her arms are strong and won't let him fall should they misstep. But it's also so comforting to fall back into the soft, warm embrace of familiarity and let himself be loved like this. Will is a _great_ kisser. Almost too good, he's practically an expert at it (but then again, it could be that _he's_ just not very good at kissing to begin with). It makes Mike's heartbeat stutter to wonder if Will has spent time imagining how he'd kiss someone, planning out every motion and gentle touch and soft breathy sound to make in response when he's kissed back. It makes Mike's heartbeat race faster to wonder how often it had been _him_ that Will thought of. _It's always been this way,_ he had said.

"Hey, Will...?" Mike murmurs when they break apart for a breath.

"Hmm?" he replies softly, eyes still closed.

Mike swallows against the little spike of butterflies inside his chest at how adorable he looks right now:  long eyelashes casting tiny shadows on his blushing cheeks, shining, swollen lips parted and trembling and waiting to be kissed again. He indulges him one last peck before asking, "When did you know...?"

 _...that you love me?_ He doesn't need to finish the sentence, Will hears it anyway. His eyes open again. A shadow glazes over them, and Mike knows what he's remembering. Will gulps and whispers, "You know when the… the Mind Flayer was inside me... controlling me... and we were tied to the chair in the shed and we didn't know what was going on... You were... talking to me."

There's a nervous flutter in Mike's stomach again. "You... remember that?"

Will is quiet for a second. A gentle, comforting hand running up and down his side breaks him out of the unpleasant memories. "Yeah," he continues softly. "You were telling me about when we met on the swings." There is a shimmer of tears forming in his eyes when he looks up at him. "You said you felt alone, and scared. And... and asking me to be your friend was..."

"...the best thing I've ever done?" Mike finishes.

Will inhales shakily, "I was fighting him. The whole time, I was fighting so hard to get him to let me go... I was looking at you and I saw you crying and I wanted to break out, I wanted to scream that I was still here, I can _hear_ you, I'm _right here_... It wasn't enough. But it almost was. We could feel it. He was slipping. He didn't... understand what that feeling was, it confused him..." Will tucks his head under Mike's chin as though the closeness means safety. He murmurs into his neck, soft as a mouse, "I was barely me, but... that's when I _knew_. And... last night you were saying things like that, and... it made me remember _knowing_..." There's a little puff of air on Mike's neck as Will scoffs lightly, "Sorry, I'm not making any sense..."

"No, no!" Mike assures him, settling his arms around Will's shoulders, "You're making lots of sense, it's okay."

They are both quiet and still for a moment. Mike feels a warm tear fall onto his collarbone and returns to the soothing motion of his hand running up and down Will's back. Will sniffles, but he's relaxing again. "Mike?" he asks.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure? About... wanting this?" His voice is so tiny that Mike has to hold his breath to hear. "You and El... you're meant for each other, y'know... She's perfect for you."

Mike presses a firm kiss to the top of Will's head. "I know. But so are _you_." And Mike counts himself as the luckiest boy alive to be loved so perfectly by them both. "I'm sure, Will. I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

There's a thought tugging on her mind that she shouldn't have left Will's room. It's a frantic, fearful thought, saying that if she walks away then she would be forgotten. It's a familiar little sensation. She had felt it every time a door closed on her and trapped her in darkness, and no one responded to her cries... _Did they disappear? Did I disappear? Did Papa stop loving me? Let me out, I'll do better this time, please don't forget me!_ But it was different when Mike was on the other side of the door... because he opened it back up when he heard her crying and he never shut the door on her again. She felt that fear again when they thought Will was dead, and Mike was angry at her. _I thought I was right, I didn't mean to hurt you! Please don't shut me out, I can do better this time!_ But he didn't shut her out. Even though he was hurt and upset, he still opened the door when Dustin and Lucas biked her back to his house, he still gave her a warm place to stay and didn't leave her all alone. Mike would always hear her when she needed to be heard. He won't shut any doors, he won't forget her.

The deep-set fear of abandonment has ebbed away significantly and doesn't cause as many flashbacks now. El is confident that this thought is nothing more than a residual echo; she trusts Mike, and she trusts Will, too. This is okay.

She hesitates in walking very far from the doorway nevertheless. She avoids intruding on their alone time too much, but she stretches out and feels for their energies and emotions and only steps out of the hallway when they've both relaxed back into Happy. Satisfied that no emotional disasters are happening in there without her, she wanders quietly back to the living room.

The only light is from the television's glow, and El notices that Nancy and Jonathan's silhouettes on the couch are merged together into one shadow. They're talking softly, not seeming to be paying attention to the movie anymore. A warm, affectionate aura emanates from them; she identifies it as mostly Nancy's, because Jonathan always had such a quiet, reserved energy about him. Perhaps it would be rude to interrupt them when the couple is radiating so much fondness. But then Nancy senses her presence and turns around.

"El! Hi!" she says sweetly.

Jonathan's head turns to her, as well. "Oh hey, sneaky-- didn't hear you come in at all! Everything okay?"

El nods and smiles in reply.

"Come on over, plenty of room," he offers, beckoning her to join them on the couch. "You missed the first half of the movie, though."

El pads over to sit on the other side of Nancy, who shifts to give her more space. "Your hair's gotten so long," Nancy comments, gently brushing her fingernails through the ends of El's dark curls. It's true; her hair is long enough to graze her shoulders now, and is relaxing into smoother, more manageable waves. It still falls into her face quite a lot, to her annoyance, and the feather-light tickle on the back of her neck or shoulder sometimes startles her, and El had considered cutting it short again if only to get it out of the way. But it looks so pretty when it's long like this... and it feels so nice when somebody brushes it for her. And Mike seems to really like touching it, too...

"Want me to braid it for you?" Nancy suggests. El grins and nods enthusiastically.

Hopper had been the one to teach El how to braid. In the early days at the cabin there was little to do, and she often found herself endlessly bored and curious to learn new things. Hopper liked to mainly teach her "useful" skills at first, like reading and writing and Morse code, or how to reset the tripwire or manually start up the generator to get the power running. Tying knots was also on the list, therefore braiding could feasibly be considered useful. She enjoys braiding things; it feels nice to do something rhythmic with her hands and it makes such a pretty pattern. Max let her go to town with her long hair once, and though the end result was a rather haphazard cluster of plaits that stuck out at weird angles on her head, it was a fun, quiet way to bond with her.

Having someone else braid El's hair, however, is entirely different, but equally enjoyable. The gentle tugs are calming, and Nancy is surely doing a better job than she can at making it look pretty.

Joyce arrives home not long afterwards. El hears her car roll up the gravel driveway and wakes out of the half-sleep that she had fallen into while Nancy braided. Jonathan pauses the movie, knowing that his mother will definitely strike up conversation immediately upon entering the door, especially since they have visitors. The VHS player makes an irritating high frequency ringing sound while it’s paused; El scrunches her face at it, but refrains from messing with it because the last time she had taken it upon herself to “fix” the noisy VHS player she had accidentally wiped the tape itself clear and they had to replace it…

El is distracted from the incessant ringing when Joyce walks in the door, at least. She hops up to greet the exhausted woman with a hug. Joyce smiles warmly, always delighted to see her, of course. “Hey, you rascals, how’s it going?” she pipes up cheerfully. The long day of work is evident in her tired voice, though. “Nancy, so good to see you! It’s been a while since you came around, hasn’t it?”

But then Joyce catches onto the pointed looks Jonathan is sending over Nancy’s shoulder to her. “Ahh... right! Don’t mind me, I’ll get out of your hair...” She winks very un-subtly at her son, leaving her purse by the door and hurrying off into the hall. El hears Jonathan snort in amusement from behind the hand currently covering his face. Nancy bites her lip to keep from giggling, as well. She’ll be leaving soon, because she told her mom that she’d go home when Joyce came back from work, so El decides it’s best to “get out of their hair”, too. So she follows behind when Joyce goes straight for the door to Will’s bedroom.

“Knockety knock,” she calls cheerfully. She doesn’t wait for a reply, of course. Joyce has an incurable habit of walking in on Will completely unannounced at any and every opportunity; no one can really blame her, but it’s gotten to a point where Will had no choice but to plead and beg on his knees to at least knock first. He’s a thirteen year old boy, nearly fourteen; she’s got to let him exist in some privacy. It’s not so easy for a mother who nearly lost her child several times over, though. She’ll knock, but don’t expect her to hesitate.

Will is used to the intrusions, but of course the last thing he wants his mom to see is him on his bed in a dimly lit room making out with a boy. He scrambles out of the calm comfort of Mike’s arms before she even turns the doorknob. Mike does the same, frantically jumping away to a safe distance; unfortunately he was already just about hanging off the edge of Will’s bed, so it results in him toppling to the floor instead.

Joyce hisses through her teeth at the unceremonious thud, swinging the door open, “Oo, what fell?”

Mike sticks up his hand from his landing spot on the other side of the bed. “Just me...”  
“Oh sorry, honey, didn’t mean to scare you!”

Mike was always kind of clumsy, and recent growth spurts are no help, so tripping or falling over is a daily occurrence. Nevertheless, Eleven goes on high alert any time there is a possibility of Mike getting hurt, so she rushes past Joyce to help him up. Joyce smiles in amusement, then turns her attention to Will, affectionately stroking his hair, “Hi, sweetie, how was your day?”

“Good,” he replies automatically.

“Did you guys have something for dinner yet?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m gonna go take a shower in a minute, do you need anything?”

“Nope.”

“Your face is kinda warm, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” Will ducks away from her hands; of _course_ he’d still be blushing…

Mike speaks up, “Um... is it alright if I spend the night? My mom says it’s okay.” He and El have climbed back up onto Will’s bed, and all three look up at her with practiced pleading eyes.

Joyce scrunches up her face and her mouth twists in thought. “Hm... El’s already spending the weekend with us,” her voice drops to a whisper, “and I don’t think Hopper would approve...”

Eleven pouts, huffing a sigh and turning the puppy eyes up another notch. Mike stammers awkwardly that he’ll sleep on the floor, they won’t be doing anything sneaky, he promises. Will pipes up and assures her that he’ll definitely be sleeping in the middle, don’t worry. Joyce laughs, easily giving in. She strokes El’s braided hair the same way she did with Will’s, “Oh, I guess what Hopper doesn’t know won’t kill him, yeah?”

She walks over to Will’s closet and pulls out a pair of sleeping bags; one of them is reserved for when El comes to stay with them, though she usually ends up sharing Will’s bed anyway. The other sleeping bag is Mike’s. Ever since it first happened two Novembers ago he’s been constantly sleeping over at their house, so it made sense to just leave it here permanently. Joyce digs out a couple pillows, as well, and asks one last time if they need anything before kissing all three of their foreheads and walking out of the room, leaving the door open (El glares at it until it swings softly shut). Will is the first to snort in laughter, and the others collapse into giggles.

“You’ll be in the middle, huh?” Mike teases, raising an eyebrow at Will.

He shoves Mike off the bed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter, sorry, but I wanted to at least post what I had... I do want to continue with this fic but it may be a while until I can conjure up more plot and come back to it. Thank you everyone for all the lovely comments! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy so we back at it again half a year later with MORE MILEVILL FLUFF and A LITTLE BIT MORE JANCY JUST FOR FUN! Sorry it took so long to publish more, I was at a loss for what to write next for a good chunk of time and was busy being meticulous and a prudish perfectionist about another of my yet-to-publish-one-shots (it's more mileven of course and spoilers, there might be smut)... So yeah, I'm deciding I'll be continuing this story a little further after all! Thanks for bearing with me, and thanks so much for everybody's comments on past chapters <3

The evening comes to a close far too soon for Nancy. She’s suddenly discovering just how much she enjoys spending time with this little makeshift family; it’s like a home away from home, a collection of all things not-quite-normal that make life so much more interesting. At the same time, she does wish that she could’ve stolen a few extra moments alone with Jonathan. There’s an intriguing sort of fire in him, hidden away from the rest of the world, that she can sometimes catch a glimpse of if it’s just the two of them. Jonathan expresses passion in such quiet, subtle ways, but it’s still exhilarating to discover how to find it. All the while, of course, he remains gentle-hearted and kind, a puzzling mystery yet a safe, stable place to bestow her trust. Someone to match her pace as they traverse the rocky terrain of life, someone to daringly step out into the unknown with her and tumble through every awkward misstep or pitfall along the way…

Nancy contemplates this on the drive back to her house. He’s a mess, no doubt, and far from perfect, but so is she. It’s oddly comforting, in a way, because there’s no need to pretend around somebody who’s just as imperfect and messy. As they drive through the pristine, neatly assembled rows of houses of her neighborhood, she can feel herself start to shrink back inward behind the facade automatically, however. Back to routines and straight A’s and the picture-perfect suburban status quo... Jonathan’s car slides to a stop at the end of their driveway. Nancy hesitates in opening the door.

“Hey,” his raspy voice catches her runaway train of thought. “You alright?”

She nods, “Yeah, just thinking...” Nancy smiles at the concern on his face. “Really, I’m okay. I just wish I could’ve stayed longer.”

Jonathan grins in that adorable, shy way he does. It then turns into a mischievous glance, “Well, you did say you’d be home before ten...” he taps his finger against the clock on his car radio, “...and it’s not quite ten o’clock yet...”

“Yeah, but your clock is slow,” she retorts, snickering.

“Eh, it was worth a try.”

Nancy laughs. Nevertheless, she leans over to catch a nice, long, lingering kiss before she pops open the car door and climbs out. “Hey,” she says suddenly, “Could you keep an eye out for Mike? He’s been acting weird—well, weirder than usual.”

Jonathan shrugs, “What else am I good for?”

She shoots him an amused smile. “Oh, lots of things, I’m sure.”

They say their goodnights, and Nancy reluctantly backs away towards the front porch. His car growls to life again, and as he drives off she can still faintly hear the muffled beat of his car radio.

 

The droning chirps of cicadas buzz through the air, so very loud now that the sun has set. It’s an incessant noise, but El doesn’t mind it. She much prefers the sounds of night creatures in a vast open space to the lifeless hum of electricity. Mike says he hates it, that it makes his skin crawl like there’s bugs everywhere. Will doesn’t seem bothered by it at all; he laughs, saying that this is why Mike chickens out of camping trips, but they both get awkwardly quiet after that, because nobody’s so much as suggested camping out in the woods for over a year and they probably never will again. Regardless, the cicada chirps are soon muffled by tightly latched windows and doors, as is the usual every night. Joyce makes her rounds, re-checking all the locks before she goes to bed. She mutters to herself tiredly as she follows the routine, pausing at the front door. Jonathan is still out; he’s driving Nancy home. She should leave it unlatched for him... or maybe she should stay up and wait for him to return first?

A soft hand touches her arm, jolting Joyce out of her runaround thoughts. Eleven tugs her away from the door. “I’ll lock the door when Jonathan comes back,” she tells the frazzled woman, “You rest.”

Joyce sighs, still on edge but calmer now that she’s broken away from her nervous spiral. “Oh—o-okay, sweetie, if you’re sure. Um... Remember to lock it _and_ latch it, though, okay?”

El nods; she’s very used to maintaining locked doors, after all. She pulls on Joyce’s arm again, urging her back towards her bedroom. She’s giving her a look, one that closely resembles the exasperated yet sympathetic expression Hopper makes when Joyce overstresses. It’s adorably uncanny how much she looks like Jim now, simply through mannerisms she’s picked up... Joyce thanks El with a gentle smile and an affectionate hand on her cheek, taking her advice and heading to bed.

Not long after, Eleven senses that Joyce is fast asleep. She signals the all-clear to Mike and Will. They slip past Joyce’s bedroom as quietly as they can manage, each carrying a sleeping bag, then pile up together on the floor in front of the TV. Will glances over the rentals Jonathan and Nancy had picked, and with a sneaky grin he immediately goes for the scariest title, which makes Mike simultaneously delighted and worried.

Will was always the brave one. Or, at least, he was before everything happened. It was Will who took the risks and the dares and threw caution to the wind. D&D campaigns were more fun if Will was involved, because while he played it smart, he also made the bold (and admittedly sometimes _very_ stupid) moves that kept it interesting. And, naturally, it was Will who always chose the scary movies at sleepovers. It‘s something Mike has always admired about him, and something that most people seem to have completely forgotten about since he came back from the dead. Playing games and telling ghost stories are nothing compared to living through the real thing... And he hasn’t been the same ever since. Until now, it would seem; whatever high he’s riding right now is bringing back some old mischief. Once again Mike finds himself feeling as though nothing has changed, that they’re just normal kids again and Will is back to his old self, the boy with the cute crooked-toothed smile that chased him on the school playground…

But while he’s happy to see this little spark of daring, the movie Will is holding up with that sneaky glint in his eye…

“A-li-en...?” El reads, slowly sounding out the unfamiliar word.

Will grins. “I haven’t seen it yet, but everybody says it’s _super_ good!”

Mike has seen it. Between the two of them, Mike tends to lean the most towards the science fiction and space-themed genre, so of course he’s seen _Alien_ . It _is_ a good movie, but he can’t deny that it is pretty terrifying... Plus, with the whole Demogorgon and Upside Down business... He squirms a bit where he’s sitting next to El, “Um... Will, maybe we shouldn’t watch a scary movie tonight...”

The other boy’s grin falls a bit at Mike’s uncertain tone. “Why not? It’s just a movie. You always said it was awesome.”

“‘Cause...” Mike is pulling some interesting faces in an attempt to find the right response, “there’s some... _stuff_...”

Will’s excited expression turns deadpan for a moment. There’s always gonna be _stuff_ , they’ve been pretty much living in a scary movie as it is. It’s impossible to avoid _stuff_ that could trigger an unpleasant flashback or two. There’s still an unsure spike of fear, but nevertheless Will tilts his head and flashes a pair of coy, fluttery puppy eyes. “Oh... But you’ll _protect_ me, _won’t_ you, Mike?”

There’s a teasingly sweet lilt in his voice when he says it; Mike instantly feels his stomach flip and his cheeks burn and he bends all too easily. Any argument is lost before it reaches his tongue and he’s left gulping and stammering, because _he’s totally doing this on purpose_ , the classic scary-movie-date move turned against him. _Damn it,_ he thinks with a defeated sigh. Will’s got him wrapped around his finger _already_ , the adorable little asshole…

Meanwhile El looks on at the scene before her and is quite impressed by how effortlessly Will is able to persuade him. A flustered pink blush is already bright across his cheeks. She ought to try making those blinky eyes at Mike sometime, it would be fun to see what happens…

Will pops in the VHS tape, and while it’s busy rewinding (so annoying that nobody bothers to rewind their rentals...), settles down on Mike’s left. His arm curls around Will with no hesitation, “Just give me a heads-up if you need a break, okay? It’s... really intense.”

Will smiles and says nothing, perfectly content to just relax against his side and lean his cheek on his shoulder. El follows suit, snuggling up on Mike’s right. When the rewinding tape slams to a halt, she nods her head at the TV to start it playing.

 

As he leaves Nancy’s culdesac, Jonathan decides to switch the radio off. It’s always been routine for him to blast his mixtapes while he drives, or over his headphones late at night after his mom and brother have gone to bed.  Mostly to drown out his own thoughts, really. They’re easier to ignore if he’s busy, and music redirects his focus from them when he’s not. But lately his mind hasn’t been quite as dreary and bitter, and he can mostly attribute that to Nancy. As much as he insists he hates socializing with people, being around her has lifted his spirits tremendously. Just being able to connect with another person directly, not through a lens or a radio speaker... he needed that. About half a year ago his mother mentioned that he looked different. He was standing a bit taller, his eyes were brighter with less dark circles, he was actually combing his hair and _smiling_. It made him realize how much better he feels now, too. He can spend an entire drive in and out of town in complete silence without it depressing the hell out of him. He can instead fill the void with replayed memories of the conversations he had with her, warm thoughts about the next time he’ll see her, recreating snapshot images in his head of how pretty she looked that day when he made her laugh. Distraction with music just isn’t necessary.

Of course, having the car radio off during the drive makes all other noises much louder. Gravel crunches harshly under the car’s wheels as Jonathan pulls up into his driveway... and there’s also a persistent rhythm of crunches ahead of him, approaching fast— a skinny figure suddenly bounds in front of his headlights, her light-colored dress reflecting back blindingly. Jonathan drops his foot onto the brake immediately and his car lurches to a stop. Eleven doesn’t seem to even react to the fact that he nearly just ran her over, she just bee-lines for the driver’s side door.

“Jesus, El!” Jonathan shouts, turning the key and opening the door in one swift motion, “What’s going on?”

El’s eyes are wide and worried. She tugs on his arm and just says quietly, “We need help.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Btw, liiiiiittle bit of a warning for anybody with emetophobia I guess? Nothing graphic, just implied.

 She motions for him to stay quiet as they go up the porch stairs. “Your mom is sleeping. Will doesn’t want to wake her up.”

Jonathan’s mouth tightens a bit; Will never wants to worry anyone, especially when he really _should_ be worried about. It’s a quality they both share, in a way, so he doesn’t argue. The house is dark and silent when they walk in, to his surprise. The only light is from the TV, paused on a VHS. It’s difficult to tell what’s in the frame, it’s mostly a blur of white with a splash of red and a few darker shapes that could be people. El dutifully closes and locks up the door behind them before once again pulling Jonathan by the arm into the hall where the bathroom is. The closer he gets to the door, his ears begin to catch muffled noises... choking and coughing and retching, interspersed with wavering sobs, and another voice speaking calmly and consistently. Jonathan quickly recognizes the situation. Will has had some particularly distressing episodes before that caused him to be sick, and he always hid in embarrassment afterwards and absolutely hated that their mom made so much of a fuss over him. It’s no wonder he wanted to keep Joyce out of it, considering he hasn’t had an intense one like this in a long while. Jonathan stepped in front of El, no longer needing to be led, and knocked softly on the bathroom door. “It’s just me, bud. Me and El. Can we come in?”

He hears a sniffle and a thick cough, then the toilet flushing, and Mike’s voice answers, “Yeah, come in.”

El hangs back. Jonathan knows she isn’t comfortable around things having to do with sickness; Will told him that because she was so used to being drained to the point of illness by overworking her abilities during her time at the lab, seeing someone else at that point brought back unpleasant memories and sensations. So he pats her shoulder reassuringly, opens the door to slip in, and quickly closes it behind him.

Will is pale-faced and sweating, slumped on the floor hanging over the open toilet bowl. His eyes are red and shining with bitter tears. Mike is hovering close to him, _very_ close, with one arm encircling Will’s shoulders. Jonathan sits down on the floor next to them.

“You good?” he asks his little brother softly.

Will gulps. Closes his eyes. Nods.

“I’d say PB&J Eggos is off the menu now, huh?”

Will is still trembling and green in the face, but he smiles a bit. (Close nearby, Mike smiles too.) “Shut up...”

Jonathan chuckles lightly. “So what did it this time?”

Mike is the one who answers. “We were... watching a movie. And...” he can’t help himself; he ducks his head in shame and rambles on, “It was all my fault. I knew it was a bad idea, it’s too similar to— to what _happened_ , and— and I should’ve warned him, but you can’t just spoil the big scene, its _legendary_ —“

“What movie?”

“... _Alien_.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah...”

Will gags. Takes a deep breath. Mike returns to rubbing Will’s back. Jonathan heaves a long sigh and drags a hand across his face. Of course they found the rental, of _course_ . Nancy had mentioned that she’s never seen it before, and due to her brother’s nerdy babbling, was convinced it wasn’t as great as everybody proclaimed it to be. Jonathan, having quite the opinion on what makes a good movie and what makes a _great_ movie, fell into a banter trap and rented _Alien_ out of spite so he could properly educate her later. He didn’t even think about how... _relevant_ it would be if Will’s curiosity got the best of him. “It’s not your fault, Mike, it’s mine,” he sighs. He joins in on rubbing his little brother’s back gently, “I’m sorry, bud.”

Will finally leans back away from the toilet to make an exasperated, disappointed face, “Didn’t even make it through the beginning.”

“Chestburster?” Jonathan asks knowingly.

Mike gives a solemn nod. “Chestburster.”

Jonathan hisses through his teeth. “Hey man, you’re not the only one who lost their lunch at that bit. It’s brutal...”

Will says nothing. Good time for a subject change, then.

“I’ll go get you some water, big guy, hang tight,” Jonathan pats his shoulder as he stands to leave. Seeming to have recovered from the worst of the nausea, Will scoots back away from the toilet to lean against the side of the tub. Mike follows to sit next to him. Before the door closes again, El peeks her head in. She winces at the sour smell lingering in the room, but endures it for the sake of asking if Will is okay.

“I think so,” he answers in a raw voice. “It’s okay, El, I’ll live.”

She still looks worried, but replies with a slow nod anyway. Jonathan returns with a cup of water and a clean shirt, which he passes to El, who bravely steps into the bathroom to give to Will. She drops a kiss on the top of his head, as well, before retreating back out into the hallway.  
“You can go on to bed, El,” Mike calls, “We’ll catch up.”

She glances back at him with a knowing smile. The door shuts behind her. Mike can vaguely hear her whispering to Jonathan that everything is okay now; they’ll take care of Will and come get him if they need anything else. Once it’s all quiet, Mike turns his attention back to the boy slumped next to him. “You sure you’re okay?”

Will takes a gulp of water and groans. “Yeah... I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be, it’s my fault for not warning you enough—“

“But it _isn’t_ your fault, Mike!” Will finally looks over to meet his gaze, having avoided all eye contact completely out of embarrassment since he darted away to the nearest toilet. They appear almost glazed over with how much they had been watering, but Mike still notices them darken the way they do when he’s recalling trauma. “I... haven’t told you everything. About... the Upside Down.”

Mike frowns, suddenly filled with concern. “What do you mean?”

Will swallows again. “El came to find me. It was... In my head, kind of... she was there, but she wasn’t, I felt her talking to me, but I couldn’t really tell... anyway, whatever she did to... connect with me, it... the Demogorgon tracked it right away. It always... _knew_ ... when I was getting through to the other side, like... it _felt_ it. And... it got me.”

Mike frowns harder, trying to understand. “You mean it found you? But... it didn’t kill you.”

Will takes a deep breath. “If it wanted me dead, it wouldn’t have brought me there in the first place. Everyone who went missing, we... we were taken alive for a reason. I was just lucky I got away before...” he trails away for a moment. Mike starts rubbing Will’s arm to bring his focus back; he’s hanging on his every word but dreading each syllable. Will looks away, ashamed—though he knows he shouldn’t be— and continues through gritted teeth, “I know where the Demodogs came from, Mike. The minute I saw Dart, I knew exactly what he was and how he got here. Because when Mom and Hopper found me, I was in its Nest.”

Mike’s stomach drops. It’s all starting to make sense. And the more Will explains, the more nauseated he gets. “Oh god...” he whispers, mortified. They _really_ picked the wrong movie.

Will’s eyes are dead and glazed again when he lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “At least Demogorgons have the decency to come back up the way they came in, instead of ripping through your stomach...”

Mike actually has to sit back a bit for some air or he’d start gagging himself. All this nightmarish stuff was happening to him this whole time, and he never said... _Why didn’t he tell me?_ Mike’s mind screams angrily. _He could’ve told me... we tell each other everything._ His stomach sinks back down out of his throat as he wonders what else Will has gone through that he’s kept from him... and not just about the Upside Down. But he can’t bring himself to demand the answer now, not when Will is so shaken and weak. Unsure what else to say, Mike just murmurs, “I’m so sorry.” It isn’t enough. No words could convey what he feels right now.

Will simply shakes his head dismissively. He takes another gulp of water, then sets the cup down on the floor. When he closes his eyes for a moment, a stray tear rolls down his cheek. Something compels Mike to kiss it away, and he’s too caught up in his own emotions to stop himself. He leans over and gently catches the tear on his lips. Will flinches at the unexpected contact, “Wh... what are you...?”

Mike doesn’t say anything. His lips have already made contact, there’s no stopping it now; he only pauses to lick away the salty taste from his mouth, and then kisses Will’s face again, along another of the streaks his tears had left. And again, on the edge of his jaw. And again... Will’s breath quickens and blood rushes up into his ears. To cover up the shakiness in his breathing he chuckles lightly, “Mike, you... you really don’t want to be kissing me right now, um... I need to brush my teeth, I’m still...”

“Don’ care.” Mike mumbles. He reaches a warm, gentle hand up to cradle the other side of Will’s face and keeps pressing soft kisses to his cheek.

Will reddens significantly. He pushes against Mike’s chest weakly, “N-nno, come on, I’m... I’m all sweaty, lemme get cleaned up first— Mike, please.”

It’s that nervous plea that backs him away. The rejection stings a bit, right in the middle of Mike’s chest, a familiar stab that happens when his efforts to help end up entirely useless... _What the hell am I doing_ , he thinks. Of course Will wouldn’t be in the mood for being kissed right after getting triggered and losing his stomach, what did he expect? So stupid... But there’s still such an intense pull on his heart to do _something_ . He has to help _somehow_ …

Mike stands up abruptly and reaches for the nearby cabinet, digging around for a washcloth. He grabs one and goes over to the sink to run cool water over it. “Sit,” he instructs, gesturing to the edge of the tub that Will is leaning against. He doesn’t exactly argue, but Will makes a confused, expectant face when he sits himself up where he had pointed. Mike straddles the bathtub ledge across from him. His face is tensed up with determination, and maybe also bracing against the awkwardness, when he lifts the damp rag up to Will’s forehead and begins gently wiping and blotting his face and neck. Will nervously avoids eye contact and still tries to shy away. “You really don’t have to—“

“Just—! Please,” Mike interjects suddenly. There’s a tremble in his voice. “Let me do this. Okay?”

Will glances up and stills for a moment. It’s that same voice he used the other night... It’s becoming so abundantly clear that any time he pushes Mike away he’s just breaking his heart; he can’t keep doing this. Swallowing his pride and the embarrassment at the situation, Will lets him continue. The cool, wet rag feels really nice on his flushed cheeks anyway.

“Shirt off.” Mike says curtly.

Will jumps, startled, but complies; a part of him at the back of his mind is laughing that this isn’t really the context he was expecting to hear those words in... Being wiped down with a rag by your crush (boyfriend...?) after puking over a horror movie, ah yes, very sexy… Although... He hasn’t stopped blushing since the whole ordeal started, and he honestly can’t tell if it’s because he’s embarrassed or... something else. Mike tends to take charge of situations and go the extra mile even if it’s unnecessary, and while Will hates being coddled and sheltered and steered around by everybody else who seems to know what’s best for him, somehow it’s not so bad when it’s Mike. It’s kind of endearing, actually. Not to mention the commanding yet gentle quality Mike’s voice has suddenly taken on... and the goosebumps that arrive with it... _That’s_ new.

Mike gulps down the nervous flutters in his stomach. He’s seen Will shirtless before, of course. Hard to avoid it when you spend just about every day with the same friends; going swimming in the summer or gym locker rooms, the usual stuff. But it dawns on him that it’s been a surprisingly long time since Will has been without a shirt around others. He started wearing rash guards to swim in and hid away in bathrooms when changing... probably about the time he started getting teased by Troy, to be honest. Even when he had been overtaken by the Mind Flayer and was sweating puddles, furiously scribbling crayon onto every scrap of paper in their house... as soon as Mike came over he hid in a long-sleeved shirt despite sweating right through it. Mike suddenly notices that Will is not just small and slim, he’s _skinny_... He is breathing heavily and shakily and his skin is stretching and sliding over sharp ribs with each breath, as though there is no muscle at all between them. It’s oddly mesmerizing, but Mike tries not to stare... he must surely be self-conscious enough already. He pauses for a moment, the rag hovering over Will’s chest, “This is okay, right?”

Will is quiet. But he’s not avoiding eye contact anymore. He nods timidly. Something about the darkened, heavy-lidded way he’s watching Mike right now gives him the impression that a nod is an understatement. So he continues. Slides the rag down his chest, up to the opposite side, across his collarbones, around to the back of his neck, slowly back down the middle of his chest. Will’s breathing seems to follow this movement so precisely. Mike glances up at his face and sees that his eyes have drooped closed and the nervous tension in his forehead has relaxed.

“Can I kiss you now?” Mike dares to ask.

Will turns his head away, hiding a shy smile, and mumbles, “Mm… not on the mouth… but… okay.”

Letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding, Mike dips his head around to the side of Will’s neck. Wet, open lips press firmly into the underside of his jaw. Will gasps softly. Mike feels the strong twitch of his pulse against his mouth. He follows the trail of Will’s pounding heartbeat down his neck, sloppily nibbling and sucking as he goes, and when he reaches the base of his throat, his tongue slips lazily into the dip between his collarbones. Will, who has been frozen still as a statue and twice as quiet for the past couple seconds, shivers violently and lets out an adorable squeak. The sound vibrates against Mike’s lips and suddenly he realizes what he’s doing and who he’s doing it to— _Shit_ , he thinks, _this is some fifth- or sixth-base-level making-out..._ Mike has only just gotten to tongue kisses and licking type of stuff with El _last week_ , that’s _way_ too advanced for him and Will right now— but it would seem that Will is entirely on board for jumping a few bases and letting Mike have at him; the smaller boy slumps back against the wall and _whines_ , a sound that absolutely floods Mike’s veins with adrenaline. Still, he shakes his head clear and backs off.

“Are you okay?”

Will jolts back to reality. He wobbles where he’s sitting— on the corner of the bathtub, shirtless, and _being kissed all over by Mike Wheeler_ — and his face immediately turns bright red. He suddenly feels like he might be sick again. Sputtering and mumbling apologies, he wiggles out from under Mike and onto the bathroom floor, where he crawls to the half-empty cup of water and clean shirt that El and Jonathan had brought. “Uhm… yeah, I’m… ‘m okay, uh… I just um. I’m fine—” He’s scrambling to his feet when...

“I’m sorry.”

Will’s throat tightens. Mike’s voice only ever sounds like that when he’s about to cry. He spins back around to see Mike with his face hidden in his hands, ears red with shame. His chest aches like there’s a rock lodged in it— _No no no no, don’t you_ dare _, Wheeler, not again—_ He’s rejected Mike one too many times. For about the sixth time today, Will decides to say “screw it”. He knocks back the last mouthful of water left in the cup, swishes it around for a second, and spits into the sink before striding back over to Mike. In one fell swoop he yanks the other boy’s hands away from his face and plants a kiss on his blushing cheek. Mike jumps a little, staring in bewilderment, but before he can verbalize anything, Will says, “Give me three minutes. Meet you in my room.”


End file.
